A Change of Heart
by NinaRoja
Summary: Set just after "Be Prepared", Scar meets Mufasa on the way back to Pride Rock, and starts to change his mind about killing his brother. One Shot. My entry for the My Lion King Writing Contest number 12. (EDIT: I won D)


**Hello everyone! On the forum I frequent, my lion king dot com, there is a monthly writing contest. I decided to enter this month, and one of the categories was "Scar changes his mind about killing Mufasa". This is my entry for that, and I thought people here might like to read it. It was quite rushed and it's not very long, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it =)**

A Change of Heart

_Mufasa must die…and Simba too…_

These were the thoughts that had been circulating Scar's brain for the past hour, like a swarm of angry bees that just wouldn't go away. It didn't matter; he was used to such dark musings, though lately they were much more intense and concentrated. They had been plaguing him ever since his nephew's birth, slowly eating away all emotion and feeling that he supposedly once had. He knew the things the lionesses said about him, "Strange" and "menacing" to name but a few. They warned their cubs away from him, though, why? The only one under any threat from him was Simba, and he was the one who bothered him the most, despite Sarabi's best wishes. If she could have her way she'd probably have her brother-in-law banished straight away.

The savannah was dark, and the sky was scattered with hundreds of silver stars, the lions of the celestial pride. The "Kings of the Past" as most people knew them. Scar couldn't help but be cynical about the whole idea. Besides the fact that he didn't believe in gods like everyone else did, the thought that his dead ancestors were supposedly watching him from the sky just didn't make any sense. He'd been told the stories as a cub, and even then he hadn't believed it. Could his father tell? Was that why Mufasa was made king instead of him?

Just the thought of his brother made him angry again. He swatted at a nearby bone lying on the path ahead of him, and it clattered away, shattering the almost perfect silence of the night. What did Mufasa have that he didn't? His brother was strong, yes, but beneath all his pride and durability was a lion of very little brain. Simba thought he was smart simply because he knew no better, and the lionesses thought he was the gods' gift to the earth, anyway. Scar was clever. Scar was cunning. Did any of them see that? No. They just avoided him. To them he was just "Mufasa's scary brother"; they all seemed to forget he was of royal blood, too.

He snarled in frustration. He hated Mufasa. How he would love to just attack him and kill him with his own paws, watch with satisfaction as the light left his eyes. And that brat, too.

"_Hey uncle Scar, when I'm king what'll that make you?"_

Why Scar didn't just kill him right then and there mystified him.

"I'll gut him!" Scar seethed, "like a gazelle, so help me I'll-"

"Scar?"

The dark lion jumped in shock. He had thought he had been quite alone. Looking through the darkness, he saw Mufasa lying in the grass. Simba was with him, sound asleep between his father's great paws.

"Mufasa," Scar muttered, acknowledging his presence.

There was a moment's silence.

"I wouldn't have expected you to be out this late."

The king momentarily glanced down at his son.

"Something… something happened."

Unbeknownst to him, Scar already knew what that something was. Another silence followed.

"…go on."

"I-" Mufasa's voice cracked, and he looked down at Simba again, this time for much longer. He shook his head as his face suddenly clouded into sadness.

"I almost lost him."

Scar was shocked: he had never seen his brother look so – emotional. Beneath his visage of pride and astuteness, which he put on for the lionesses, was a very fragile being. A frightened cub hiding behind his father's legacy.

"Nearly," Scar said, "yet he's still here, isn't he?"

This did not seem to help Mufasa at all. If anything he looked even more anguished than before. Scar hoped he wouldn't cry. He had no idea what he would do then. There was yet another silence where only the sounds of distant animals and birds could be heard through the peace of the night.

"Am I a good father, Scar?" suddenly came Mufasa's question.

Scar glanced down, still standing though his brother was lying in the grass. The king was looking up at him with an expression so desperate looking it begged for reassurance. Scar had never seen Mufasa so raw like this. It was almost unsettling.

"Well, er…" he was taken aback, "I suppose. I wouldn't really know."

"It's just, I'm always trying to be like _him_."

"Who?"

"You know, our father."

He looked up to the sky, the stars reflecting off his glassy eyes.

"I want to be for Simba what he was for me. He had such a powerful presence, I just wanted to do what he said all the time."

His gaze dropped to the sleeping cub once more.

"Today I told him not to go to that graveyard, and he still did. What if he doesn't respect me? If father told me not to go somewhere I wouldn't have ever dreamed of it."

Scar had longed for his father's affirmation for so long, though never seemed to have gotten it. While he was alive, he had tried so hard to never put a paw out of line yet Mufasa received acceptance with minimal effort. With a sigh, Scar lay down beside him. Their father was a difficult subject for him.

"Maybe you shouldn't try to be like father."

"Why not?"

"You look at him like he was some godly creature. Maybe he was, but he still had his… flaws."

The scar over his left eye stung slightly at the memory.

"You're right," Mufasa said, serenely, "his temper was quite… short."

His gaze slowly travelled the length of his brother's gash.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault," Scar replied, gritting his teeth slightly, "you tried to stop him."

They both sat, remembering the fateful day when the younger had gotten his name.

"You know how much he regretted it, Scar," Mufasa said, "He didn't _mean _to do it."

"If it were you, he wouldn't have done it at all. He just always preferred you to me. I was the disappointment."

"That's not true, and you know it. He loved you as much as he did me. Things were just never the same between you after… you know."

"Then why did he make you the king instead of me? He knew how much I wanted it! I worked so hard, tried my best at everything, and yet here we are."

Scar could feel his temper returning; seemingly the only trait of his father's that he had inherited.

"He would have given it to both of us if he could. Besides, being king isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Scar scoffed at that.

"Oh, of course! All that love and adoration and respect from the entire kingdom must be so difficult to bear!"

"No, I mean, we don't get to talk like this the way we used to."

Scar stopped in his tracks right there.

"…what?"

"I feel like we're growing apart. We used to be the best of friends, and now every time we talk I feel like we just fight. I feel like you're avoiding me, and I hate it."

Scar felt himself grow very, very small in that moment. He was convinced Mufasa hated him the way he did. But now… had he been wrong? Every ounce of resentment and bitterness felt like it were suddenly being stripped away, and it put the dark lion on edge. These strange feelings, sudden care and compassion for his brother, were foreign to him.

"It all changed when Simba was born, I think, " Mufasa continued, his voice shaking slightly. They were treading dangerous waters here. Both of them knew he was right.

"He really looks up to you, you know."

"Not as much as he looks up to you," Scar said, "you should hear how much he goes on about you."

Mufasa looked up, "really?"

"Of course he does, you're a god in his eyes. Didn't you know?"

The king looked to his son again, "no, I didn't," he mumbled, slowly.

"Everything you tell him, he comes to me and spouts it back up again. To him, you can do no wrong."

"So… you're saying that… maybe I _am-"_

"I don't know why you, of all lions, ever doubted yourself, Mufasa. Deep down I think you knew all this."

Mufasa was smiling again. He opened his mouth to speak again before Scar stopped him.

"My point is, don't try to be like anyone else. Be the father you think Simba needs, that's all you can do."

The cub between his brother's paws stirred slightly.

"Sarabi will be wondering where you are," Scar said, quietly.

"Yes," Mufasa replied, still smiling slightly, "she will be."

He stood up, and bent to pick up his son.

"Are you coming?"

Scar waited a moment before answering.

"No," he said, "I think I'll stay out here a while longer."

"All right, then."

He lifted Simba by the scruff of the neck, and began to pad away into the darkness. He stopped again, and set the cub down.

"I really liked this, Scar."

Scar looked up, his head having drooped slightly.

"Yes… me too."

The king dipped his head, before starting back to Pride Rock.

The dark lion waited for him to leave, before a single tear of shame ran down his face.

**So? I'll let you know if I win =)**

**Also, it's worth mentioning that I got the idea for this based off of some fanart I saw a while ago. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated =)**


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